Mr. and Mrs. Collins arrived at Rosings Park, and reported that Miss Bennet had stayed at home so as not to risk Miss de Bourgh’s health. Anne, seated beside the Colonel, said that she was sorry to learn that Miss Bennet was not well, and hoped that she would be better quite soon.
The Colonel nodded at Anne’s words approvingly, and added his own hopes for Miss Bennet’s health.
Lady Catherine simply sniffed at the news; she was occupied in noting that Richard Fitzwilliam was now paying a good deal of attention to Anne.
Mr. Darcy was deeply disappointed to learn that Miss Bennet was not to join them for dinner, but this disappointment evaporated the moment he understood that Miss Bennet was at the parsonage by herself. Unable to think of any excuse for his absence, he simply bowed to everyone in the drawing room, murmured “Excuse me,” and all but ran out the front door, Lady Catherine’s cry of “Darcy!” ringing in his ears.
He made his way to the parsonage, his heart pounding more from anticipation than from the exercise, and knocked on thefront door. It was opened by the Collins’ maid, who said, in some surprise, “Mr. and Mrs. Collins are at Rosings Park, sir.”
He pushed past her without a word and went into the parlour, where Miss Bennet sat with a book.
Elizabeth rose, but she was so surprised at the intrusion that she could find nothing to say.
He took a step toward her and then stopped. “Miss Bennet,” he said. “Elizabeth!”
She took a step back.
Still across the room, he fell to his knees, and said, hoarsely, ““In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent.
All the carefully learned words of his beautifully written speech fled from Mr. Darcy’s mind. Instead, he simply spoke from his heart. “You are silent! I understand; my behaviour has been reprehensible from the start. I told you, again and again, that I was destined for someone better than you, while somehow I knew,of course I knew, that there could be no one better than you!”
He took a deep breath before continuing, in a lower tone, “I was shallow, I was foolish, all in the name of rationality, and I understand now, better than I could have ever understood before, that love is beyond rationality. It is its own self, its own sphere, and is more powerful than anything else. Love does conquer all, as Virgil says, and I was a fool to believe that I knew better.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth began, taking a step forward, but her voice faltered, and tears began to pool in her eyes.
Mr. Darcy rose and came to her. “Do not cry, beloved, but tell me – please! – that my love – my at long last spoken love! – is not in vain!” Now his own tears began, as he feared what her silence might mean.
And suddenly she was in his arms, and his lips found hers, their tears mingled, and all their questions were answered.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Mr. Darcy returned to Netherfield a full hour after his dramatic departure. The Rosings party were at the dinner table when he burst in and took his seat. Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned upon seeing his cousin’s joyful countenance. He leaned over to his cousin Anne and whispered, “He has finally gotten sense!”
Anne replied, “I am so glad! If only we all could be so fortunate.” She looked up at her cousin Richard. She thought it likely that no one thought him handsome in comparison to Mr. Darcy, but she had always believed Richard to be the more attractive of the two. Such broad shoulders, such strong arms! She blushed at her thoughts.
Lady Catherine burst out, “Darcy! Where on earth have you been? How can you just up and leave, without a word of explanation? Such bad manners!”
Mr. Darcy leaned back in his chair, tilting it until it rested on the back two legs, and laughed out loud. “I am the happiest man alive!”
Mrs. Collins smiled at him. “She said yes?”
“She did!”
“Who? Who said yes to what?” Lady Catherine demanded, banging her fist on the table.
“Miss Bennet has agreed to be my wife!”
“What!?” Lady Catherine was outraged.
“There is no point in you disapproving, Aunt, as it will only cause me to suspend my annual visits to you,” Mr. Darcy said, bringing his chair back to its usual position with a thump. “Wish me happy.” His tone was now severe.
Lady Catherine swallowed and said, “I hope you will both be very happy.” If her tone was flat, no one cared.
Mr. Collins had been staring at Mr. Darcy in some confusion; he finally spoke. “You recall that I stand inloco parentisto her, do you not, Mr. Darcy?”
“And do you disapprove the match, Mr. Collins?” his wife asked him. Her voice warned him of the possible consequences should he reply incorrectly.
